


Good Morning

by iamasherlockofthelord



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is a cutie, Fluff, Freckle counting, Lazy Mornings, M/M, dean is a cutie, everything is cute, fluff with detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamasherlockofthelord/pseuds/iamasherlockofthelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two were still tired, the previous evening wearing at their bones. Although, as many would think, it was not a morning filled with erratic movement, muffled noise, sheens on skin or lust and pleasure – it was a quiet morning after a loud yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> first fic i've ever posted! it's short and relatively un-edited, but i've got another fic on the go that (hopefully!) will be up soon!  
> this was spawned when i was thinking about how cute fluff would be if it was done with as much detail as smut.  
> so, ta da!
> 
> also, how do title

The mornings were usually early and fast, with too much movement and too much noise – but this morning was rare and cherished. It was not one where they were forced to rise as soon as the sun greeted the horizon. They weren’t forced from their warmth because someone was in trouble. They were left alone and it was strange. Something that neither of them had had the privilege of experiencing in a long time, although no one was complaining, of course. Although, the lack of excitement roused the two earlier than they would have wished, feeling like the world was standing still. Surely they couldn’t be so lucky?

Nothing was out there though – no noise, no danger. At least, not yet. So they lay back down, limbs tangled and skin pressed together, the heat being shared like a warm fire across a room. It was too early to speak, so they shared a silent exchange – a single glance and a small, tired smile before a kiss. A single, lingering kiss – one that had taken place so many times before but had never, ever lost its meaning. Each time felt as electrifying as the first. So personal and so close; an action that could speak more words than either of them ever could. The two were still tired, the previous evening wearing at their bones. Although, as many would think, it was not an evening of erratic movement, muffled noise, sheens on skin or lust and pleasure – it was a quiet evening after a loud day. One where both men fell into bed, limbs too stiff to remove clothes without assistance, (an action that both of them required and had also quickly erupted into fits of drowsy laughter) before they could fall into bed, stubbled cheek against chest and chin against dark hair in a way that was so completely natural. 

After they woke early and after the single kiss was shared, it was hours before either of them gathered enough energy to murmur a greeting.  
“Morning.”  
“Good morning, Dean.”  
Neither of them could see their partners lips move, but they were close enough to hear a smile behind the words. And that only made them smile more. Their movements were languid, with ruffled sheets golden in the rising sun and tucked beneath ankles, but they moved enough to settle down and face one another – not letting go of that grasp of fingers that was so very vital. Their hearts swelled at the sight of the others smile that they were both so sure that their partner had and Cas was sure he heard the small rumble of a laugh from Dean’s throat. It was a quiet sound, but one that seemed to stick in the room and melt into the strands of golden light. 

Life seemed nicer and things seemed easier in these mornings (which might explain why they were so rare) when Cas wasn’t so conflicted and Dean wasn’t so broken, and they could trace patterns between freckles and kiss scars in a way that seemed to dissolve all the bad memories that put them there.  
It was a long time, hours maybe, before either of them moved again. Cas reached out a finger, tracing the tan pinpricks that lined Dean’s cheeks, a smile on his face that Dean knew so well. Eyes were heavy lidded and vision was blurred through lashes and the mist of sleep, but Dean could see crystalline eyes shining through the haze.  
Dean thought he probably spent far too much time staring into those eyes – finding no shade even remotely the same to that incandescent blue. He could see the threads of different shades draped across a sapphire base. There were no eyes like Castiel’s in the world and they were only for Dean to stare into with so much love and reminiscence.  
The number of freckles Dean had dotted across his nose and cheeks was probably equal to the amount of times that Cas had counted said freckles. Every morning that they could spare, Dean would watch those wide eyes move across his face, counting each dot with childlike determination.

Dean loved everything about Cas. From the blue eyes that were a shade that could challenge the sky, to the way his jaw was set when he thought.  
Cas loved everything about Dean. From the stubble that would grow when he forgot to shave to the way his arm would move to protect.

Cas’ eyes stopped moving and his finger ghosted across skin to brush Dean’s cheek before he moved, pressing a gentle, dulcet kiss to his angel’s forehead.  
Times like these were the only things they wished for during chaotic weeks. Just a few hours of uninterrupted bliss -speaking without words and exploring each other’s skin with familiarity and a sense of serenity that they thought they had lost.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading and please don't hesitate to leave feedback - i could really use it! so, _constructive_ criticism is greatly appreciated.


End file.
